After 'The Tower'
by Red Bess Rackham
Summary: When Hollywood decides to make a big, dumb action movie out of the Battle of New York, Clint thinks it can't be that bad...only to find out he's very, very wrong. (Oneshot. Gen, Avengers fun. For remix revival 2018.)


_**A/n:** For remix_revival, __I read a whole bunch of_ _ **owlmoose**_ ' _s LOVELY fic_ _before I found_ _"Down and Out on the Red Carpet"_ _, and I just couldn't get away from the hilarity of a super terrible Michael "It Needs More Explosions" Bay movie version of The Battle of New York. I absolutely loved owlmoose's piece on it, and through it found_ _Lancinate_ ' _s_ _amazing art ("Fanart for Down and Out On The Red Carpet")_ _and_ _nottonyharrison_ ' _s_ _art ("The Battle of New York: Take 2")_ _as well (which is where I draw the fake cast list from). I just HAD to find something to do with it all, so here's what happened – just some totally silly, gen, Avengers fun. (Y'all should check out the fics and art mentioned, over on AO3!)  
_

 _Lastly, as always, thanks to my FAB beta, stars_inthe_sky. \o/_

 _ **Remixing**_ _: "_ _Down and Out on the Red Carpet" by owlmoose (on AO3)  
_

* * *

 **After "The Tower"**

Inside the Chinese Mann's Theatre, Clint found Natasha in the second row and slid into the empty seat on her right.

Steve, Natasha, Thor, and Tony had already arrived for the red carpet premiere for Michael Bay's new movie _The Tower_ , all about the Battle of New York two years prior, and they had been busy smiling for the cameras when Clint arrived. He wondered if wherever Bruce was, he'd heard about the movie.

Natasha glanced curiously at Clint. "I thought you were on assignment?"

"Ended early," he said with a shrug. The stab wound on his forearm still ached and itched, but at least Mongossi was in custody and there was one less cartel in Turin.

"And you came _here_?" Natasha nodded her head to the theatre, filling with journalists, cast, and crew—plus their families and dates, PR people, and more. The level of excited chatter nearly drowned out their conversation.

"Didn't want to leave you guys hanging," he said, but Natasha scoffed at him.

"Bullshit. You just wanted to see Nicolas Cage trying to be Tony."

Clint grinned. "I didn't go all the way to the Tower for a tux and then sneak in here through the back door for nothing. We taking bets on the number of unnecessary explosions and melodramatic slow motion sequences?"

"Absolutely," Natasha chuckled. "Cap'll be mad you didn't have to face down the press gauntlet with the rest of us."

"Where is he, by the way?"

"Bathroom. Probably got hung up in a dozen ' _thank you for coming, we love you'_ conversations on his way back, poor thing."

She only looked a little bit sympathetic, however, and he knew she was glad to be avoiding those conversations herself. Fury may have wanted them all there for good press and all, but nothing said they had to go out of their way more than they already had. Now that they were seated inside the theatre, people seemed to be restricting themselves to excited whispering and staring, without bothering them directly with conversation.

Clint propped his feet against the seat in front of him and produced a bag of M&M's from his suit pocket. "He handling it okay?" He held the open bag out to her.

Natasha dug her fingers into the bag. "As good as can be expected. I'm sure he'll have plenty to say once we've seen what kind of monstrosity Bay's concocted." She popped a few candies in her mouth.

"Honestly, as bad as I'm expecting it to be...I'm sure it will actually be worse." Clint threw a few M&M's in his mouth and crunched them merrily.

Natasha hummed in agreement as Steve squeezed down the row to his seat. He raised his eyebrows in surprise at Clint.

"When'd you get back?" he asked. He smoothed his hand down his suit and settled into the chair on Natasha's other side.

"Just now," said Clint. "Couldn't miss this." He held out the bag of M&M's to Cap. "Besides, Nat said you needed all the help you could get withstanding this whole Hollywood thing."

Steve rolled his eyes but snagged a handful of candy. "I just don't think it's appropriate to be making an action blockbuster out of a very real, very terrifying catastrophe."

"Welcome to Hollywood," Clint and Natasha said in unison.

The three of them munched M&M's while taking bets on number of explosions and how inaccurate the thing would be. They only had to wait another five or so minutes before the call came over the speaker asking people to take their seats. Though the theatre was already crowded with people sitting or standing in the aisles talking, another wave came in from the lobby.

Thor and Jane settled into their row, greeting Clint enthusiastically.

"We missed you in the crowd outside," said Jane, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah, must have," Clint replied, offering her and Thor the last of his M&M's. He exchanged a quick, amused look with Natasha, and Steve narrowed his eyes.

He leaned around Natasha. "You came in through the back, didn't you?" he muttered.

"Shh, Cap, the movie's about to start."

Steve shook his head, fighting off a smile. Steve was probably wishing he'd thought to sneak in as well. Fortunately for Clint, however—and unfortunately for Steve—being Captain America meant being the face of the Avengers as much as Iron Man. It meant smiling and playing nice on the red carpet in front of the fans and the cameras.

It also meant Hawkeye could slip into his seat ten minutes before the movie started and nobody would even notice, save his own team.

Tony and Pepper hurried into their seats on Clint's right, just as the lights dimmed. Pepper greeted him quietly, but Tony didn't look the least bit surprised to see him. Clint realized why the seat beside Natasha had not been otherwise sold.

"How'd you know I'd show?" he whispered to Tony as the cast took to the stage to introduce the movie they were about to watch.

"We both know this is going to be a hot mess," Tony murmured. "And we both know how much material for mocking each other is going to be in this movie—something neither you or I would pass up. I figured it couldn't hurt to buy another seat, just in case."

Clint chuckled. _Well, he's not wrong._

* * *

When the credits rolled two and a half hours later, though, even Clint was speechless. Natasha had a strange frozen expression on her face, like she couldn't decide whether to laugh until she choked or throw Michael Bay through a plate-glass window. Cap was nodding slowly, like he had expected nothing less. He dug out his wallet and passed Clint a crisp twenty to cover his part of the bets they'd decided on earlier.

Tony looked torn between being supremely offended and trying not to openly giggle. Without taking his eyes off the CGI-ed, exploding credits, he passed Clint a fifty-dollar bill. Pepper had a perfectly placating smile on as she patted Tony's arm, clearly willing him to stay quiet. Jane talked in furious whispers to Thor, whose brow was wrinkled with a pained grimace.

"That was…" he began and turned to Steve, who shrugged.

"It was _something_ , all right," he said flatly.

Clint scrubbed his hand over his face. Natasha nudged him. "Game faces," she muttered, and he realized the lights were coming back on.

He straightened in his seat and she laid her hand on Steve's arm, whispering in his ear. Cap nodded and passed the message to Thor, who went from frowning to a placidly neutral expression. Jane huffed and pushed on a blatantly empty smile.

"That was a disaster," Clint mumbled. "A disaster about a disaster."

Tony snorted. Pepper and Natasha simultaneously shot them each a warning look.

The crowd around them began to filter out of the theatre, and Clint scanned the faces for their feelings on the mess they'd just witnessed. Most people wore flat, empty smiles like Jane's, keeping up appearances; others laughed and talked animatedly, though whether from actual enjoyment or pure mockery, Clint couldn't be sure.

Bay himself looked proud as shit, Cage too. Jovovich less so—in fact, he was pretty sure she was casting apologetic looks right at them, though she kept up a steady stream of conversation with Lutz and Van Der Beek. The rest of the cast filed out after them, mixing in with the crowd at the exit.

Clint was ready to bolt for the back of the building again to avoid having to give his opinion—he wasn't even supposed to be here, technically, after all. He looked to Natasha, who sighed.

"Might as well," she said. _I don't think any of us can stomach the press_ , went unspoken and Clint nodded.

He patted Tony's back. "Sorry. You're taking it for the team."

"What?" He blinked and realized both Clint and Natasha were staring him down. "No, c'mon, Barton—that was—Natasha, I don't—" Tony sputtered.

Pepper grasped his hand and stood, bring Tony to his feet, too. "It's fine, Tony. Let's get it over with. You'll say it was a creative, original, _fictional_ take. Say it was a lot of fun, and that…" she coached, half-dragging Tony up the aisle.

"Let's go," Clint said, gesturing to the others.

Steve blinked up at him. "But the after-party and…" He gestured helplessly at the emptying theatre, at the people flashing them amused or pitying smiles.

"Five seconds and you'll have to." He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder and then hurried down the row of chairs.

Natasha gave Steve's arm a tug so he stood, and they followed Clint, Thor and Jane trailing after them. Clint made straight for the exit. A few heads turned, but the theatre was emptying fast—nobody else wanted to linger now that the movie's cast and director was back out on the red carpet taking questions.

The door opened into a hallway, crammed with moviegoers searching for exits, garbage cans, and bathrooms. There was a commotion and a wave of excited whispers announcing that Iron Man had come out, and people herded towards the theatre's entrance.

Clint waited a moment for the crowd to thin, then slipped out the door with the others right behind him. He walked down the short length of hall and around the corner, veering past the _Employees Only_ ropes blocking off a corridor leading to the emergency exits at the back of the building. A couple of ushers balked at the sight of three Avengers plus one renowned astrophysicist coming at them, but Clint put on his worried face and grasped the shoulder of the first one.

"Look, I need you to keep this quiet, but the demigod's not feeling so good," said Clint, patting the man's shoulder. "We just need to get him away from the paparazzi. Do you mind if we go out this way?"

Thor caught on instantly, letting out a pained moan and leaning against Jane. She circled her arm around him, eyes wide, but nodded quickly.

" _So_ sick," she said, her cheeks flushing.

Steve smoothly took up Thor's other arm. "Please, we don't want to make a scene at such a...nice...event."

Clint noticed the twitch of Steve's mouth and almost laughed.

"No, of course, of course," the second employee said, snapping out of his starstruck gaze. He and the first man hastily led them on, past bustling clean-up crew; most of them paused to stare and gawk in surprise.

"Everybody keeps their mouth shut," the first man snapped. "This is an Avengers emergency!"

Clint bit back another laugh and shared a quick look with Natasha. As Steve and Jane helped a moaning Thor out the door, Natasha paused to squeeze the first man's arm.

"Thank you for your discretion," she said, her voice the perfect mix of sultry and grateful that had the usher blushing redder than Jane.

Clint wasn't surprised to see one of the three limos they'd arrived in waiting in the mall parking lot directly out back, though he didn't know how Tony or Pepper managed to get it there so fast. They rushed down the steps, past another theatre employee on a smoke break. She startled, dropping her cigarette.

"Holy shit, you're…"

"Leaving!" said Cap.

They piled in. Clint merrily saluted the gaping employee, then shut the limo door. The stitches under his sleeve pulled at the skin a bit, though, and he hissed as he plopped into his seat. The car started down the alley the second the door shut, and J.A.R.V.I.S.'s voice calmly informed them they were headed back to the Tower.

 _Ah._ That was how the limo was waiting. Clint could picture Tony tapping instructions into his watch and dispatching their limo driver in an instant. It was good to have the genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist on their side.

Steve exhaled and leaned back into the seat.

"Thanks for the getaway," he said. "I don't think there's anything polite I can say about that movie right now."

Clint loosened the bowtie around his neck. "Well, I personally thought the bit where Iron Man's flying through balls of fire, screaming ' _AMERICAAA_ ' and shooting the Chitauri with a machine gun on each arm was a nice touch."

"Those weren't Chitauri." Steve shook his head. "They were...they were…"

"Multi-armed, CGI disasters?" supplied Natasha.

Steve laughed, pushing his fingers through his hair, mussing it from its perfectly gelled, smooth state. "They got my uniform right, and Tony's suit was close...ish. But I think that's about the only thing they did right."

"She wasn't wearing _any clothes!"_ Jane burst in, throwing her hands in the air. "Natasha, I'm so sorry they _did_ that to you!"

Natasha shrugged. "It was a stupid Hollywood movie, it wasn't me."

"But, she's named after you—she was supposed to be you, or some...ridiculous fantasy version or—" Jane threw her hands in the air in frustration, talking fast and, literally, furious. "I mean, in the middle of battle, and she's got a...a _black_ _leather bikini_ and then all the _slo-mo_ —I just—"

Clint grinned, thoroughly entertained by Jane's rage on their behalf.

"Is it bad that fighting baddies in a bikini _is_ something I've actually done?" Natasha mused. "Though there was no slo-mo. At least not on my end."

Jane plowed on. "And _none_ of the science made any sense, at all. You can just _hack_ a portal! And for _God's_ sake, the entire Tower can't—and _didn't_ run on alien batteries—and why was there even an _entire heist sequence_! It made no sense!"

"But the way that Hawkeye was hanging upside down inside the Tower vents over the spinning fan of death," said Clint. "I mean, that was straight out of _Mission: Impossible_. I was kinda into it."

Natasha snorted. "Only because _you've_ actually done that, too."

Steve shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe there was anything in that movie that was remotely real."

Jane kept on ranting, heedless of the rest of them, while Thor watched her, a marshmallow-soft expression on his face.

"And none of you were sleeping together while Loki was getting captured or when he was breaking out—though, by all means, correct me if I'm wrong—but especially not on the Helicarrier _while_ it was crashing out of the sky—what was with that _cackle_ they had Russell Brand doing?"

"To be fair, Loki does, on occasion, cackle," put in Thor. "Though not quite so…"

"Boisterously?" offered Natasha.

Thor nodded, and Steve laughed.

"And physics doesn't _work_ like that," Jane continued, still at a yell. "At any point, but _especially_ when Iron Man caught the carrier before it hit the ground and Bikini Widow jump-started the engine from _inside_ the engine, but still jumped away from the explosion, even though _her leg was broken_ from her fight with the Hulk—"

Natasha couldn't contain her laughter then, and neither could Clint. Even though Jane was still sputtering over the ridiculousness of basically every element in the abomination of a movie, they were all laughing before long. Jane couldn't help joining in, too, by that point.

The limo pulled into the parking garage beneath the Los Angeles Stark Hotel, and Clint finally managed to catch his breath.

* * *

For the next three months, as predicted, they quoted the thing nonstop at each other, especially once they were back at the real Avengers Tower (and its lack of spinning fans of death) in New York. When _The Tower_ came on Blu-Ray, Tony bought them each a copy—Steve frowned and threatened to throw his away, but when Bruce finally came home the following day from his travels in who-knows-where doing who-knows-what for five months, it was Steve's copy they cracked open to watch that night.

"They made uh, a movie about...the Battle of New York?" Bruce's brow furrowed.

"Two, actually," said Clint, grabbing the popcorn bowl from the counter and settling onto one of the big plush couches in the common room.

" _Two?_ " Bruce twisted his hands together. "Um, why?"

"Because Hollywood," Steve answered. He popped the disc into the Stark home theatre system. "This one is just about the worst thing you've ever seen."

Bruce shuffled over to one of the unoccupied easy chairs. "So...why are we watching it then?"

" _We've_ seen it about eight hundred times," Tony said with a grin. "You haven't experienced the utter horror yet."

"It must be shared," Natasha put in, curling onto the couch beside Clint and digging into the popcorn.

"I think I'm missing the point…" Bruce looked between all of them.

Thor dumped an armful of junk food down on the coffee table and joined Steve on the second couch. "I don't believe there _is_ a point, Banner. Just an... _experience_."

The five of other them snickered and grinned at each other, leaving Bruce looking a bit bemused.

"Okaaay…" He snagged a bag of chips and settled deeper into the chair.

Clint tried not to quote along, but once Tony started it, it was hard not to. Steve threw popcorn at the TV at different scenes, they kept a running tally of the massive explosions, and they ranked the performances from campiest (Cage, of course) to flattest (debatable between Lundgren and Lutz).

They all booed when Bikini Widow—Jane's title having stuck indelibly, to no one's chagrin—stripped to her skivvies for no real reason in the Helicarrier's lab, all while carrying on a conversation about radiation ratios with Nicolas Cage's Tony Stark and James Van Der Beek's version of Bruce.

Bruce quickly got into the mass mocking of it—and and with no sign of greening, either, since it bore no real resemblance to what had actually happened. He even later admitted the Beek hadn't done too bad of a job; it was the lame dialogue he'd had to spout that was almost worthy of a Hulk-out.

The Avengers' screening of Michael Bay's _The Tower_ became a monthly event, and they were often joined by Jane, Pepper, Rhodey, and Darcy. Jane, of course, couldn't help ranting about the lack of real science. Darcy whooped in appreciation when Channing Tatum took his shirt off. Pepper took great pleasure in woodenly repeating Cage's worst lines, while Rhodey created a drinking game for how many times he or Tatum moodily looked into the distance.

"Too bad I missed the premiere," Bruce said as they all sat down to watch the movie a few months down the road. "I could've Hulked out and taken down the screen and the projector—saved everybody a lot of emotional trauma."

"Deprived of them this magnificently horrendous drivel, more like," said Tony, cuing up the sound system.

"You love it," Natasha countered.

"Tomato, toe-mah-toe," said Clint, and he put the disc into the player again.

 **-end-**


End file.
